


I Hate My Sister

by Terminal_Collata



Category: Original Work
Genre: Child Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Femdom, Loneliness, Molestation, Oral Sex, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Violence, Sibling Incest, Threats of Violence, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-07-24 16:54:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16179248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminal_Collata/pseuds/Terminal_Collata
Summary: 9-year-old Jessie has some sibling-related trouble in his small single-story home, so much in fact that he begins to contemplate running away, even if it means near-certain death in the rundown urbanized mess of a city he calls home.





	1. I Hate Coming Home

If there’s anything in life that has any sort of permanence for the average person, it’s their family. Who you grow up with, who you share most of your life with, who’s there for you when life is at its most difficult; your family is always the first to come to mind. Unfortunately, for a particular 9-year old boy, family was just another source of stress and his budding self-hatred. Jessie Cooper stepped out into the brisk late-Autumn afternoon breeze, clutching the hem of his tattered old jacket as he surveyed the surrounding area. The schoolyard was completely empty at this point, as school technically ended over 2 hours ago. The young child had fostered a routine; every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday he’d stay after school and perform his assigned duties, which usually involved cleaning out desks or clearing the chalkboard after class was finished. Of course, this usually only took around 20 minutes, the rest of his time was spent in the 2nd story boy’s bathroom reading in an empty stall while he waited for the custodian to make his daily rounds. Jessie despised leaving school on schedule, as it usually involved running into (and subsequently walking home with) his sister Alice.

If there was anyone in Jessie’s life that he could safely and definitively say he hated, it was his sister. She embodied every sickly-sweet, passive-aggressive, and utterly hate-filled feeling one could possibly harbor for another human being, and most of that genuine hate was directed at her younger sibling. Alice was 16, though she easily passed for 20, and somehow wore a near-permanent cocky smirk that occasionally morphed into an almost haunting scowl during her…episodes, as Jessie had taken to calling them. Her long auburn hair mimicked Jessie’s own natural color, spilling over her shoulders and flowing down to the small of her back, though despite her innocuous (and arguably beautiful, not that Jessie would ever admit it aloud) appearance, she was truly awful in most every way imaginable. The young child kept his head low as he swung wide around the parking lot situated to the east of the schoolyard, trying his hardest to avoid being noticed (an impossible task given how barren the rest of the surrounding area was). He hoped that one of the teachers would do their job and make sure that no strange individuals were lingering in the schoolyard before heading home for the day; it made getting home without being spotted much easier. Unfortunately, today just wasn’t his day.

“Hey Jess, you’re pretty late.”

Jessie jumped, quickly turning and staring at (or rather past) the young woman looming over him, that trademark smirk plastered on her face. “I’ve been out here waiting for you for almost an hour, y’know you’re not supposed to be staying after today,” Alice said sweetly, placing a gloved hand on the boy’s shoulder. Jessie continued to stare past the girl, a look of sheer contempt glued to his scarf-concealed countenance. Sensing the tension in his stance, Alice gripped the boy’s opposite shoulder and turned him on his heels before leaning in to whisper in his ear. “You’re being really shitty about this, it’s getting harder and harder to deal with your terrible attitude.” The emphasis on the final two words was punctuated by a quick, but rough squeeze of the boy’s shoulders. “I really don’t like doing this in public, so can you at least save your bitchfit for when we get home?” With that, she eased off, quickly offering Jessie her hand and gesturing for him to grab it. The child silently regarded her extended digits, seemingly contemplating whether she wanted to hold his hand or rip his arm off before tentatively grasping his sister’s hand and casting his gaze downward in defeat as the two made their way home.

The foyer sat completely empty; no shoes, no purse, no coat, not even a discarded or forgotten wallet. Jessie clutched the hem of his jacket protectively, his fingers threading its many holes and shredded cloth with a seemingly practiced precision as his sister essentially dragged him towards the far end of their single-story home. Stepping into their shared bedroom (a paltry affair, barely enough room for 1 person, let alone two) and clearing the mess of clothes, books, and assorted school supplies from the bottom bunk of the bed the siblings shared, Alice took a seat on the far side of the bed, flashing her little brother a sly smile before patting the empty spot on the mattress flanking her left side. Jessie for his part stood as still as possible, save for the increasingly-nervous fidgeting of his small, under-developed digits against the disheveled and matted material lining his hand-me-down jacket. “U-umm, d-do we hafta play sex today?” the young child couldn’t help but stutter as he stared at a particularly interesting dust bunny on the carpet, too embarrassed to even bring himself to look at the young woman studying him through lidded eyes and humming a private tune to herself. “We can play later, I just want to talk,” Alice said, the sickly-sweet inflection in her voice a telltale sign of her impatience, “we have plenty of time.”

With that, Jessie slowly inched towards the bunk before plopping down next to his sister, visibly shaking but otherwise compliant. Alice reached over, placed a hand on his leg, and gingerly stroked and pet the boy’s inner thigh, quietly observing his tense body language and the poorly-concealed expression of panic plastered on his face. “You’ve been staying after really late the past few weeks. Wanna tell me why?” Alice loved to bring out the ‘caring big sister’ routine whenever she and Jess were alone, especially during playtime, watching him squirm with discomfort and trip over his sentences while they talked was always oddly arousing, not to mention how much she knew he hated it. The room sat nearly silent for the next minute or so, the only audible noise being the dull scratching noise produced by Jessie’s continued fidgeting as he attempted to gather his thoughts. As if on cue, Alice gave the boy’s thigh a tense squeeze, leaning in to lightly suckle his earlobe before releasing it with a wet ‘pop.’ “That wasn’t a rhetorical question,” she said, the statement doused in honey yet oozing venom all at once. Panicking a bit more, the boy quickly found an adequate excuse; “I was…helping a friend in s-study hall, Ms. Folks made me the class helper, s-so I stay after and help tutor sometimes.” His gaze remained downcast, almost as if he were ashamed of the obvious lie he’d just told, the silence permeating the room leaving Jessie so on-edge that he felt like his sweat had almost begun to pool in his clasped hands.

Alice simply scooched closer to her brother, draping an arm around his shoulder and regarding him with that same cocky smirk and those same lidded eyes before stifling a chuckle. “You’re a terrible liar, my god,” she howled, “why can’t you just say that you hate being around me? Why pretend that you don’t want to see me locked up or at least punished for all the ‘horrible’ shit I’ve been doing?” Jessie kept his hands firmly glued to his lap, almost hoping that his sister would disappear if he pretended he didn’t hear her. Unfortunately, he had no such luck. He jumped when he felt her hand snake its way under his shirt, lingering over his stomach and fiddling with the zipper on his khakis. Despite the effort he was putting into his commitment to keeping quiet, he was unable to keep himself from sniffling as tears began to roll down his cheeks. “It’s a shame Connor couldn’t make it, I’m sure he would’ve loved the show you’re putting on,” Alice lifted her brother by the arms before gently setting him down in her lap, “he’s a sucker for theatrics.” The teenager continued her exploration, humming with obvious delight as she groped and touched every inch of the young boy planted between her legs, intertwining her legs with his own as her hands slowly worked their way over the boy’s chest. “Mmm, you’re so much warmer than usual Jess, just relax, I promise it’ll be quick,” Alice cooed as she caressed the boy’s stomach, inching lower and lower until the tips of her fingers rested firmly atop his pubic mound. Jessie could feel himself becoming more and more hysterical, his quiet sniffles and whimpers slowly morphing into throaty sobs as tears rolled down his cheeks in salty rivulets. “I…I-I don’t wanna do this stuff anymore.” the boy quietly blubbered, his chest hitching as his sister wiped away his tears with one hand and began stroking his boyhood with the other. “Don’t be so dramatic, we’ve done so much more, there’s nothing wrong with a little cuddling,” Alice whispered into his ear, “I’d hate for things to get violent agai-” The girl froze as the sound of the front door slamming open filled the siblings’ small home. “Allie, get your ass in here! Where the fuck is my phone?

Jessie sat on his sister’s bed, hands clasped together and eyes cast downward as he tried his hardest to tune out the background yelling that so often filled his family’s run-down bungalow. His sister and mother seemed to fight a lot more often than they had before Alice started taking an interest in his “growth.” Every other day there was some unfathomable disaster that sent the house’s female residents into a frenzy, one so utterly monstrous that their arguments stretched into the early hours of the morning, even on school days. As much as the child hated seeing his family fight, a small part of him found relief in moments like these. Not being able to sleep comfortably at night, or absorb himself in any of his schoolwork, or even enjoy any of his hobbies (especially reading, as Alice had taken to scribbling dirty words and lewd drawings in many of the books he brought home) had taken a toll on the boy, he’d come to hope that his mother and sister would fight and argue from dusk ‘till dawn if only because it meant that he could have some time alone. As a toddler Jessie had adored the prospect of sharing a bed with his big sister, especially when she used to read to him before naps or bed time. In fact, part of his fascination with the written word was instilled within him because of his sister’s care and attention (which he now suspected was feigned).

He kicked off his shoes, grabbed his backpack and climbed the ladder to his bunk, crawling under the blanket fully clothed and almost shivering thanks to the terrible insulation in the children’s room. He propped his backpack up in a corner of his mattress, fishing his dated government-subsidized prepaid smartphone out of one of the pouches and fiddling with the device for a few minutes before placing it back in his backpack and lying down. The freckled child lay motionless, hoping to be lulled to sleep by the household commotion before his sister had a chance to return. Unfortunately, the boy was seemingly cursed, as Alice burst into their room as if on cue, ranting about how much of a “bipolar cunt” their mother was. “Fucking stupid bitch can’t even keep up with her own shit, always tries to blame me for every little thing,” she stewed, Jessie cringing as he heard the telltale hollow *click* of the room’s aged lock. “Be glad you’re the younger one, she’ll just coddle you like a fucking baby instead of making your life a living hell,” Alice spat while rummaging through one of her desk drawers. Against his better judgement, the younger sibling peeked over the side of his bunk, peering down at the girl as she squatted down to search through a particularly low drawer. “Look on the bright side, I’ll only be here for a few more years,” the young woman sauntered her way to the siblings’ shared closet, where she grabbed a bottle of lotion from the top cupboard before making her way up to her brother’s bunk. She silently climbed over the side – Jessie having long since cowered beneath his blanket – before straddling his thighs and reaching down to tug at his protective layer of comforters. “Come on Jess, don’t be such a baby, I really don’t feel like fighting right now,” Alice leaned forward, shifting her weight to the boy’s stomach before slowly working her hands beneath him and clasping them behind his back, pressing her chest against his own and grinding against his completely concealed groin. “How are we supposed to play sex with you covered up like that?” she complained.

With that, the teen grasped the comforter with her right hand, rolling over to the opposite side, and dragging the blanket off of her brother, who whimpered in fear as she remounted him, slowly snaking her hand down the front of his jacket, unzipping it more and more the lower she went. The younger sibling panicked, grasping her fingers with both hands and lifting his knees in an attempt to buck his sister off, but his underdeveloped muscles couldn’t compete with the much older girl. The world became a blurry smear as a resounding slap echoed in the small room, Jessie reeling as he watched, disoriented, as the red, blue, and beige blur hovering over him continued to shift and undulate. He felt a pair of hands roughly grasp his shoulders before one made its way to his neck, tightening its grip as the boy tried (and failed) to regain his composure. As the ringing in his ears subsided and the world regained some of its sound and clarity, Jessie finally began to relax, casting an unfocused yet perturbed glance upwards towards his sister, who met his gaze with her own scowl. “I’m trying to make this easy for you,” she began, the older girl glancing cholerically towards the bedroom door while the boy beneath her lay completely still. “The least you could do is TRY to play along. I really don’t want to have to hurt you again, God knows mom’d flip her shit if anything happened to YOU.” Alice loosened the grip she had on his neck, caressing the boy’s clothed chest before removing his jacket and shedding her own dress shirt. Jessie observed absentmindedly as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his khakis, sliding the cheap polyester down below his knees before turning her attention to his underwear. Casting him a seductive glance, the lithe teenager leaned forward, bathing the boy’s groin in her silky chestnut hair and planting her nose firmly into his budding jewels, causing him to jump. Alice chuckled haughtily into her brother’s concealed scrotum, capturing one of his cute little balls between her lips and sucking the fabric that housed it, staining the boy’s crotch with her saliva. Jessie for his part haphazardly covered his face with his arms, silently stewing as his sister dug her fingers into her cunt and continued to sloppily lick and slurp his boyhood through his undies.

By the time she’d stopped, Jessie was a shivering mess, his young mind so fried by the overstimulation and strange sensations that he couldn’t even move. He merely lay there panting frantically, trying to get as much air into his little lungs as he could manage, his sister slowly peeling his underwear off before reaching for the bottle of lotion she’d brought. “See? That wasn’t so bad, I just wanna help you feel good Jess,” she stopped to stroke his face, applying a small amount of lotion to his lips and moving downwards, coating his chest, navel, inner thighs, legs, and his now-flaccid penis, before working her way to his asshole, to which she applied an extra generous amount. “Sex feels amazing, you just have to stop fighting me so much, I’m sure you’d love it if you’d just learned to relax.” Alice had to resist the urge to laugh as she fingered the boy’s asshole, savoring every shiver and tremble to make its way from his core, down his spine, out of his colon, and into the tip of her finger, smiling gleefully as she leaned forward to flick one of his nipples with her tongue. The young woman found herself staring at the boy beneath her; he’d long since stopped responding, with the occasional sniffle or hiccup being his only vocalization, and if not for his incessant shivering and wobbly shifting anyone who’d seen him may have assumed he was passed out.

Alice frowned, rolling her eyes and reaching down to pull Jessie’s arms away from his face so she could get him to calm down a bit – was what she told herself, but in actuality she’d hoped that the abject misery plastered on his face was as deep and obvious as she was expecting, as she found torturing the child and bringing him to tears to be an insane turn-on. The boy’s face was red and his eyes were puffy, while tears and snot slithered down his chin and cheeks in slimy rills. He shut his eyes as tightly as he could, the no-doubt embarrassing situation renewing his blubbering as Alice leaned closer and pressed her lips against his, her tongue poking out to impatiently swipe his lips as she waited for him to open up. The introverted child held firm, his furrowed lips nearly retracting as his sister continued to assault his mouth with her tongue while she pinned his wrists to the bed, just above his rust-speckled hair. The pain in his swollen cheek kept the boy from truly struggling as he quickly swiveled his head to the left, an action he immediately regretted as Alice bit his cheek, eliciting a pained yelp from her victim. Anger flashing in her eyes, she drew his wrists down to his sides – nearly crushing them as she tightened her grip – and brought her face within inches of his own, his haggard and panicked breathing punctuated by his occasional whimpers. “Either get your shit together or you’re gonna make me have to hurt you, I’m really not in the mood for this shit right now,” she hissed through clenched teeth. Jessie merely met her stare with his own incredulous gaze, tears still streaming down his face, as his sister continued to crush his wrists and began grinding her (now soaked) leggings-covered crotch against his own. She released his wrists, reaching down to unbutton and remove her pants and panties in one swift motion, a string of her essence connecting her to the garments as she kicked them to the foot of the mattress.

Slotting the boy safely against her opening, Alice took the time to savor the look of abject misery painted on his face, almost drowning their genitals in her arousal. Jessie closed his eyes, his hands pressing against his sister’s stomach as she slowly descended, grinding her clit against his pelvis as she took the remainder of his boyhood. “Mmm, see? It feels nice,” she gasped, placing her hands on his chest as she leaned forward and continued to grind against him. The young teenager lowered a hand to her cunt as the room was filled with the light, sodden sound of flesh against flesh, coating her index and middle fingers with the salty, viscous love fluids that flowed from the siblings’ conjoined privates. She grasped the little boy’s arms, pulling them away from his face as she leaned in close; “I want to give you a treat,” she breathed seductively into his ear, “it won’t smell so good, but the taste’ll be to die for,” and with that, she pried open his mouth with one hand while tracing the rim of his lower lip with the other, smearing a significant amount on the boy’s lips before slowly massaging his tongue with her fingers. Alice inched her hand deeper and deeper into her lover’s mouth, basking in the mini-afterglow of each of his gags, wet hacks, and spasms while she coated the insides of his cheeks before extracting her fingers and bringing the two wet digits to her own mouth, where she slurped and licked her brother’s saliva from her hand. Jessie recoiled at the sight, his arms jittering in place as his teenaged tormentor grabbed his wrists and brought them to her breasts, massaging the plump fleshy orbs as she ground herself against the boy, almost in time with his near-inaudible sobs. “It’s not as fun if you’re not doing any work,” the girl whined, the sardonic look on her face matching the faux concern in her voice.

The teenager continued to knead her own breasts using her brother’s hands, threading her fingers through his own as she guided the inexperienced boy’s hands over her fleshy mounds, a stray finger swiping one of her nipples and causing her to bite her lower lip to keep from giving voice to her pleasure. “Mmm, I’m so close,” Alice moaned, “just…hold still, I-I’m almost done.” Jessie of course had long since tuned her out, staring absentmindedly past her flustered face, counting the individual grains of white asbestos in the bedroom’s acoustic ceiling as his inner thighs were flooded with a mixture of skene juice and urine, the older girl going slack as she sat atop him, running her fingers through his hair before dismounting. She laughed superciliously as fluid continued to run down her thighs, admiring the sticky mess that lay before her, its hands flittering uncontrollably as it lay otherwise motionless, slowly receding into its bed as fluids continued to pool beneath it. The teenager grasped blindly behind her back, grimacing as she felt the drenched mess that was once a gorgeous pair of silk panties. “Hah, that was great,” she panted before glancing at the digital clock on the boy’s desk; 8:25 P.M., “don’t sleep too late, we’ve got lots to do tomorrow.” And with that, she pulled the covers over Jessie, descending his bunk to find a towel for her shower as the boy lay near-motionless, struggling to catch his breath in the numbing afterglow of his orgasm.


	2. I Hate Going to School

A hazy stream of twilight spilled into the siblings’ room, bathing the young woman sleeping in the bottom bunk in a yellowish sheen. She yawned, sitting up and stretching as she blinked the sleep from her eyes. Making her way to the closet, she noted the unsettling silence in her bedroom, an extremely uncommon occurrence over the past 3 years, and donned her technically-government-mandated school uniform; a dark navy-blue polo shirt and a 22-inch khaki skirt. She absolutely abhorred her school’s dress code, but unfortunately, she didn’t have many other options, especially considering the degenerate-infested shithole she and her family inhabited. After spending about half an hour applying her makeup she cast a sidelong glance at the top bunk, almost worried by the utter stillness she noticed, so much so that she took it upon herself to check up on the boy. “Hey Jess, you up?” she began, palming one of the rungs of the ladder up to the boy’s bed, “You should hurry up and get dressed, I’ll walk you to the bus stop on my way t–” the words died on her lips when she saw the empty bed. “God dammit,” she muttered.

Jessie stood at the bus stop at the end of Calhoun street, his backpack slung over his shoulders as he scratched and picked at the hem of his tattered and dirty jacket, a thin layer of unspeakable fluid congealed around the child’s sleeves and emitting a rather odd odor. He stood and waited, reaching into his jacket pocket to retrieve his cellphone and check the time; 6:54 A.M. The prepubescent despised waking up so early, but it was the only way he could ensure that his sister wouldn't be around to disturb him, or at least wouldn't have the time to. Alice would be getting dressed right about now, leaving the house by 7:15 if she wanted to make it to school by 8, which gave Jessie plenty of time to get home, eat breakfast, take a quick shower, and maybe even watch some cartoons before he had to be at school come 9. He sat on a nearby bench, swiping through his phone before hovering over the .mp3 he'd recorded the night before. Fishing his earbuds out of his backpack, the young child plugged them in and opened the file, grimacing as he was assaulted with the sounds of his mother’s yelling followed by Alice’s shrill retorts. He listened for a few minutes before he heard the sound of the children’s bedroom door slamming followed by the muffled hiss of the local route R42 bus’s brakes as it came to a stop, its doors opening and what looked like a horribly confused and drunken homeless woman shambling out before stumbling off down the street. Jessie sighed, taking note of the time once again – 7:07 – before making his way back home. On days like today he'd taken to leaving home early and travelling about half a mile away to one of the city’s seedier (relatively speaking) neighborhoods so he could avoid dealing with his sister’s post-playtime affections.

The boy silently made his way home, trudging up the hill towards his street as he thought. He’d grown to hate being around his sister, and especially being stuck at home alone with her, so much so that he genuinely contemplated heading straight to school. One cursory sniff of his jacket sleeve convinced the child otherwise; he desperately needed a shower. Thinking back on the last few years, Jessie had come to realize just how much his relationship with his family had changed. Of course, the sexual aspect was the major difference, but there was a time when he may have even reluctantly enjoyed “playing” with his sister, despite how awful and disgusting such an admission made him feel. Not even 2 years ago Alice was much kinder, gentler, and more docile, but now she seemed to take pleasure in abusing the boy, even going so far as to leave disgustingly vulgar notes and pictures in his backpack, not to mention the veritable tons of pornographic images she’d been downloading onto his phone’s microSD card. Before recently the siblings’ “sessions” were relatively tame, typically ending with Alice reading her brother a story as the two cuddled, but nowadays what was once somewhat enjoyable (if not still highly illegal and scarring) sibling "bonding" had become a violent affair, with Jessie sporting enough bruises, welts, marks, and scars to necessitate the many long-sleeved shirts and jackets that he’d grown accustomed to wearing.

As much as he hated his sister, Jessie still felt that there was some love between the two, as twisted and warped as it had become, which was why he felt so awful about how their relationship had soured, despite the fact that it was entirely through no fault of his own. The boy was always a sensitive and introverted child, often derided for his somewhat effeminate and reserved behavior even from a young age. As a result, he had few – or more accurately, no – friends, relying solely on his sister’s companionship since his absent father and hardworking-but-neglectful mother left the young redhead pining for some form of closeness and affection. Unfortunately, he’d grown to resent her behavior, and especially how she regarded him. What had once been a friendly, loving, platonic, and consensual relationship had devolved into a hateful, violent, and disgusting farce, tinged with a mutual disdain and no small amount of self-hatred. Jessie felt that he was beholden to his sister, it wasn’t like anyone else had taken an interest in his companionship, and while he hated being abused, it was better than being avoided altogether. The young child sighed as he palmed the doorknob to his home, taking one last moment to gather his wits before stepping inside. Empty. He felt a twinge of disgust at his budding disappointment as he made his way to his shared room. Rifling through his drawer, the boy pulled out a pair of faded beige khakis, a light blue polo shirt, and a pair of torn socks and made his way to the shower. Jessie quickly disrobed, averting his eyes from the mirror in the bathroom as he stepped into the shower. He found the scalding water to be somewhat relaxing, preferring to rub his skin raw whenever he bathed (which had become increasingly rare over the past year). After he was finished the boy grabbed his backpack and stared at the disheveled jacket hanging on the coat-rack. As much as he’d hate walking to and from school in 44-degree weather without a jacket, the thought of donning the disgusting article almost made the young child physically ill, so he left without it.

 

Jessie sat in class, listening absentmindedly as his teacher explained long division to a class that was half-empty (and what desks weren’t empty were occupied by sorely disinterested students, many of whom were engaging in idle chat or playing with their phones). He wasn’t particularly interested in the lesson, but he knew that he wanted to get out of the house as soon as possible, and college was his best bet. The young ginger had high hopes for his educational career, and while he was sure his family wouldn’t have the sway or the funds to get him into a private school, he could at least strive for a decent public school, and the Advanced and Gifted program at James Watson middle school was a perfect fit. It was far enough that he’d have to take the bus instead of walking, in a nice enough neighborhood that he wouldn’t have to deal with homeless drug addicts and prostitutes whenever school got out, and with its AAG program he could probably find some smarter kids to hang out with. All he had to do was bide his time and keep his head down, once Alice left for college (assuming she had the grades to get accepted, Jessie realized that he didn’t actually know much about his sister’s school performance, or even what grade she was in for that matter) he’d have much less to worry about and would easily be able to perform in school. He had at most 4 years left of dealing with his sister and after that he’d be in the clear. The child’s inner musing was interrupted by the bell for 4th period followed by the loud screeching of desks scraping against the tiled floor. 

The redheaded child made his way down to the school’s rundown basement computer lab, where his computer science teacher Mr. Ficètte was fiddling with an old Apple II computer in the corner of the small room. Being situated in the middle of the city’s most rundown district, Sotomayor Elementary was extremely underfunded, which is to say that most of its allotted funds were spent on various security measures, including cameras, metal detectors at every entrance, armed security staff, and lockdown measures. As a result, the computer lab was outdated at best, utterly ancient at worst. The walls were lined with old Windows ME systems, Apple IIs, and even an antique IBM PC, all of which were used by students for little more than basic word processing, spreadsheet manipulation, and presentation creation. All told, Jessie’s phone was easily more powerful than half the computers in the room combined, but of course students were forced to make due. Taking a seat at his assigned computer, Jessie took a minute to inwardly snicker at the room’s décor. With all the outdated hardware, the tacky carpet, the peeling wallpaper, and the desks and chairs with so many names carved into them they looked like one of those memorial statues covered in the names of dead soldiers, it looked like a time capsule from the ‘80s had exploded in the room. “Hey, Jess, early as ever,” the young boy cringed at his teacher’s use of the pet name his sister had taken to using so often, but nodded nonetheless. “Today’s just another makeup day, so you can chill out or head to the library if you’ve already done the work,” the middle-aged teacher finished. “Thanks Mr. F!” Jessie beamed as he took the opportunity to pack up his things before making his way out of the computer lab. He’d always taken it upon himself to finish his work as quickly as possible, so he had plenty of free time in a few of his classes, most of which was spent reading, browsing the internet, or avoiding running into most of his classmates. Making his way out of the classroom, the young ginger noticed a few of his classmates standing in the hallway and silently chatting as a few of them seemed to eye him apprehensively, increasing his pace to a brisk walk as he made his way up the side stairs to the main hallway on the ground floor. 

Stepping into the library, Jessie waved at Ms. Tritori, the school’s librarian, and made his way to his favorite computer at the far end of the room. While students normally weren’t allowed to leave classrooms and freely roam the halls, the boy was lucky enough to have been chosen as hall monitor for the month, which meant he was able to freely “patrol” the halls after finishing his work in certain classes (provided his teacher was okay with it). Of course, he spent most of this free time in the library, seated at the fastest computer in the whole school (as far as he knew), which was perfect for playing games that he’d downloaded onto his phone. He didn’t own a computer of his own (or a gaming console of any kind), and his mother couldn’t afford anything more than basic cable even with multiple jobs, so this was the closest he came to entertaining himself outside of his cheap government-funded phone. The young redhead spent the next hour or so transferring said games and checking out a few books before he realized school was almost over, and while he didn’t really want to go home, he wasn’t sure he wanted to upset his sister any more than he already had. Thankfully, he had a plan to alleviate some of his sibling-related stress, even if it was only temporarily. Jessie packed up his electronics and powered down the computer, already salivating at the thought of all the games he’d be playing on it next week, before making his way out of the library, making sure to wave goodbye to Ms. Tritori on his way out.

The crimson late Autumn sunset had already begun to creep its way onto the horizon as an equally crimson crop of hair resting atop the head of a young freckled child bobbed and swayed its way down the sidewalk. The child was seemingly lost in thought as the mid-afternoon breeze disturbed his already-disheveled hair, his brow furrowed in concentration and his gaze cast downward as he fiddled with the sole hanging strap on his backpack. Jessie had spent the past 15 minutes thinking of ways to enact his plan. He was sure that Alice would be home by now – it was almost 4:00 P.M after all – but the real question was whether or not she’d be in one of her moods. Her… “episodes” weren’t a daily occurrence thankfully, but she always went a little wild on Fridays or Saturdays, and the poor child was still recovering from her last violent outburst the week prior. The boy cringed when he thought of the few new scars he sported on his body; a smattering of small fleshy pockets just below his right elbow from being stabbed repeatedly with a fork last week, a long burgundy scar along the underside of his left forearm from the swiss army knife his sister’s boyfriend had left at their house a month or so ago, a patch of dead skin on the palm of his left hand ripe for peeling that he’d earned from the girl’s lighter, and a small circular group of indentations along his left shoulder from Alice’s “foreplay.” To be frank, he was exhausted, and he knew that he’d have to set his plan into motion soon if he wanted to resolve his issue with the older girl without utterly destroying his life and his family. While he wasn’t too crazy about his current living situation, it was at least much better than some of the horror stories he’d seen online about the foster care system, especially for children his age. Not to mention the fact that it would utterly devastate his mother if she ever found out, with the threat of losing her children to the state being the icing on the proverbial shit cake.

Jessie was freed from his cogitation when he almost tripped over the front step to his home, his own outlook matching the depressing bungalow’s state as he heard what sounded like the drunken rambling of his sister and her boyfriend in the living room. Taking a deep breath and steeling his nerves for the ordeal ahead, he fished his house key from the smallest pouch in his backpack, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. The child almost jumped at the shrill voice that greeted him from the kitchen, inwardly cursing when his sister drunkenly shambled into the living room with a goofy smile glued to her face. “Heeeeyy, s’just the guy I wanted t’see!” she stumbled over the end table before plodding her way over to her younger sibling and placing an uneasy hand on his shoulder. She leaned down and pulled the boy into a bone-crushing hug, simultaneously reaching up to caress his hair and down to molest the back of his upper thigh. “I m’ssed you y’know, we’ve beeeenn… waiting f’r you all day!” The boy stood stock still, completely confused by his sister’s slurred speech and friendly demeanor. He’d (regrettably) seen her drunk before, but she usually maintained her calm and domineering personality even when completely hammered, and he had plenty of physical reminders to prove it. The pre-pubescent boy jumped when he felt a hand make its way down the front of his khakis and squirmed incessantly when it groped his family jewels. “Mmmm, soon ‘s Connie’s done in the basthroom we can all play t’gether.” Alice slurred as she clumsily grabbed the boy’s hands before shakily straightening her posture and leading him to the living room couch. “Umm, where’s mom?” the young child inquired, “i-it’s Friday, shouldn’t she be here? She… umm, wouldn’t want you drinking.” The older girl sank into the middle couch cushion and pulled her brother into her lap, clasping her hands together over his navel and nuzzling the boy’s shoulder. “S’okay, she won’t be back ‘till morning, we got plentya time to play,” Alice smiled as she playfully nibbled the underaged boy’s neck before pulling him in and lightly grinding her crotch against the seat of his pants. While he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the situation, Jessie decided against struggling or fighting for the time being, as being molested was preferable to being beaten and molested, and Alice seemed much less forceful and violent in her current inebriated state.

The sound of the toilet flushing followed by an elongated creaking and punctuated by the hollow thud of wood meeting wood filled the small home as the bathroom door burst open and gave pause to the teenaged girl’s uninhibited exploration of her sibling’s body. She jerked her head backwards and smiled at the young man who drunkenly sauntered out of the lavatory. “Hey babe, look who finally showed up,” the bubbly girl chirped, petting her younger brother’s thighs as the man behind her chuckled haughtily. Jessie understood that his sister had a somewhat … unorthodox lifestyle, but he never understood why she was so comfortable around her boyfriend. It wasn’t that he was a bad guy per se, but seeing as how he was almost 24 and consistently unemployed, it seemed odd that Alice was so infatuated with him. Connor hopped over the couch, landing on the cushion next to Alice, and draped an arm over her shoulder. The young boy couldn’t help but notice the squat glass bottle that the grown man held in his left hand, and while he couldn’t quite make out the name he did take note of the pirate on the label propping one leg up on a barrel. Jessie surveyed the rest of the living room; empty bottles strewn about, a mess of newly-made stains on the loveseat, an empty cardboard box with various fruits depicted on the label with brightly-colored print that he couldn’t quite make out, and a pair of cotton panties draped over the lamp on the end table. 

The ginger boy flinched when someone flicked his temple, turning towards his sister’s grown lover as she continued to caress and fondle the boy. “Hey squirt, nice of you to show up on time for once.” Connor reached over and ruffled the boy’s hair as he took a swig from his pirate-themed bottle of hooch. The child reached up to straighten his hair but was immediately impeded by a pair of hands lightly grasping his arms and dragging them slowly back down to rest on his thighs. The proprietor of said hands held the boy’s arms in place as she leaned forward and whispered into his ear, “Connie’s gonna play sex with us t’day, ‘kay?” Alice giggled as her younger sibling squirmed in her arms, holding his arms firmly at his sides as she nibbled his ear and peppered the nape of his neck with wet, sloppy kisses. She tightened her grip, bringing the boy’s hands together and nearly crushing them as she continued to tease him. “I bet he’d even pop your butt cherry‘f you wanted,” she whispered, “I hear it feels soooo good for guys.” With that, the boy finally felt himself panicking a bit, his eyes darting back and forth between his lap and the 6’2 24-year-old man sitting on the couch next to him and his sister, the latter of whom was pre-occupied with grinding against his backside as she drunkenly mumbled something about lubricant. Jessie jumped as the only adult in the room stood and gestured for Alice to follow him into the siblings’ shared bedroom. His heart exploded against his ribcage as his sister complied, lifting him off the couch by his armpits and following close behind her grown lover. He knew he couldn’t let the situation progress, all it would take was a single locked door and he'd be utterly powerless, so he scrambled into action as quickly as he could. 

Alice screamed out as the boy bit her arm as hard as he could, dashing for the front door when she dropped him. Throwing as much of his weight forward to put as large of a gap between him and his tormentors as he possibly could, Jessie tripped over the ottoman and tumbled past the front door and into his mother’s bedroom door. He tried to right himself, but was immediately set upon by a pair of large hands and tossed into the living room mantle, knocking over the framed picture of him and his sister. The child crawled towards the front door, reaching up just in time for a pair of scissors to embed themselves in his right hand. Recoiling, he weakly cowered as his sister reached down and grabbed him by his collar, dragging him into their room. Jessie tried to scream, but all he could manage was a yelp and a weak whimper before a hot flash of pain erupted in his nose as the older girl slammed his face against the bedframe and tossed him onto the bottom bunk. The adolescent was panting now, adrenaline coursing through his veins thanks to his panicked outburst, wincing as he felt the blood trickling down to his upper lip and dripping from his right palm, staining Alice’s silky white sheets a deep crimson. The older sibling merely stared down at the boy, anger boiling in her stomach so ferociously that it worked its way to her fingertips. She turned to her boyfriend, who had just finished locking the bedroom door, and fished the switchblade he always carried out of his front pocket. 

Hovering over her brother, Alice went to work, cutting away at Jessie’s khakis and underwear while her confidant ripped the boy’s arms away from his face and held them above his head. “You really are a little shit, you know that squirt?” the older male spat, “You should be glad I’m not stringing you up by your fucking balls right about now.” Jessie merely stared blankly ahead, dimly aware of the light breeze between his thighs and the pooling blood next to his head. He cringed when his teenaged molester pressed the cold steel against his coin purse, swallowing aridly and closing his eyes as she traced the outline of his shaft with the razor-sharp knife. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks and mixing with the blood that leaked from his nose. “I’m sorry, plea –“ The child was silenced by a sharp slap, followed by a pair of panties shoved into his mouth. He hadn’t even noticed his sister stripping, was just barely aware of her straddling his thighs, the blade of the knife pressed against his throat as she grabbed a fistful of his hair. “I just wanted to have some fun, way to ruin a good time you fucking cunt.” With that, she nodded to her boyfriend, who dragged the boy into a sitting position by his hands and held the child between his legs. Alice found a comfy seat in her brother’s lap and reached down to lift his shirt up over his head, staining the baby blue affair with a rusty streak of blood. The boy silently sniffled as the older man pulled his shirt up and off of his wrists, a salacious grin plastered on his face while his teenaged paramour continued to strip. Alice peeled her shirt off, her exposed breasts spilling out into the cool, damp air, before lowering the knife to Jessie’s chest and hovering over one of his sensitive nipples, the cool steel slowly pressing into his flesh as the child winced in pain. 

As much as he wanted to scream, the younger sibling knew it wouldn’t do him any good, the regret he felt towards his awful decision-making only ballooning as he realized that he’d dropped his phone in the commotion. Jessie shuddered as he felt a smooth, velvety pair of lips caressing his shaft, followed by a wet and rhythmic squelching as the older girl went to work, grinding her exposed sex against her sibling’s genitals. The prepubescent shut his eyes tightly, trying anything to convince himself that he was elsewhere. He gasped when he felt a hand wrap around his neck, wincing as he felt the cold tingle of steel against his cheek. “Open your eyes or I’ll cut ‘em out,” Alice sneered. The younger child was absolutely horrified, his arms wobbling uncontrollably before Connor yanked them backwards and clutched the child’s wrists. “Stop fidgeting,” he said flatly, staring daggers at his underaged captive as the child slowly opened his eyes. Alice’s smirk could only be described as sarcastically sweet as she withdrew the blade from her brother’s cheek, grinding away at his under-developed dick with methodical ferocity. After coating her lover’s genitals thoroughly, she leaned forward, pressing her hefty breasts against the boy’s own hairless chest as she lifted her ass from his lap and pulled the sodden panties from his mouth. Slotting her pussy safely against her brother’s sex, she slowly engulfed his boyhood, that sickly smile painted on her face the entire way down. “For an honor roll student,” the teenager began as she bounced in the boy’s lap, panting with each thrust, “you’re really fucking stupid.” “You could’ve avoided all this if you’d just played along. I can’t even enjoy a good buzz without you fucking ruining it with your shitty behavior,” she spat, malice dripping from her words and seeping into the boy’s skin.

Jessie stared his sister down, his eyes defiantly glued to hers, a look that she reflected back at the boy. He tried his hardest to avoid reacting to her solicitous rutting, his inner thighs already slick with her juices, but only lasted a few minutes before he shamefully lowered his gaze and quietly shuddered as the beginnings of his orgasm washed over him. The older sibling merely grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking his head upwards and drinking in the flustered and ignominious look on his face as he pointlessly squirmed beneath her. She laughed aloud when her boyfriend fished the bottle of rum from below the bed, tilting the boy’s head back and forcing as much of the bronze liquid as he could down the young child’s throat. Jessie thrashed as the vile liquid oozed down his throat, panicking violently when a small amount entered his windpipe, finding its way into his sinuses and scorching his nostrils. Alice held the boy in place while he tried to struggle against her grip, laughing and grinding against him as she drank in his misery. Once the bottle of liquor was near-empty Connor withdrew It from the younger sibling’s lips, taking a swig of his own as the child coughed and sputtered, gasping and panting wildly as tears rolled down his cheeks and he resisted the urge to vomit. The teenaged molester wrapped her arms around the boy’s waist, leaning in and peppering his face with kisses, lingering over his lips as she pecked and prodded at the streaks of rum streaming from between his lips. “Look at the bright side,” she began, reaching down and grabbing her panties, which she used to gently dab the newly-dampened blood from her brother’s face, “your nose’ll hurt a lot less in a few minutes.” She stood from the bed, Connor releasing the boy’s head and following behind as she sauntered to the bedroom door. The two kissed, the older man reaching down to grope his girlfriend’s ass. “Don’t stay up too late,” Alice japed, “we’ll be in the living room if you need anything.”

The child was once again alone, lying on soaked sheets in a room that seemed to oscillate as the alcohol left him disoriented and numb. Looking around, Jessie noticed his phone lying on the bedroom’s carpet, its once-immaculate screen cracked in 3 separate places. He climbed out of bed, only to trip and faceplant on his bedroom floor, groaning in pain and frustration as he lifted the device and inspected the damage. Luckily it still functioned, and the touchscreen capabilities were none the worse for wear despite the utterly mangled screen. Sighing in relief, the boy lifted himself onto shaky feet before groggily redressing and lamenting the completely ruined pair of pants and undies he was wearing. While today had been a complete bust, he at least knew that he’d have to approach his plan a lot more subtly if he wanted to resolve his… familial troubles without completely ruining his life. The trouble was figuring out how to do that without being disfigured.


End file.
